


Good Riddance

by Gothams_Only_Wolf, Vinvalen



Series: Under The Wing of A Nibel Dragon [6]
Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Hojo is six feet under, Messy Hojo demise, Nibel Verse, you can thank Mama Strife for that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-27
Updated: 2019-10-27
Packaged: 2021-01-04 14:17:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21199049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gothams_Only_Wolf/pseuds/Gothams_Only_Wolf, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vinvalen/pseuds/Vinvalen
Summary: An expanded tale of events surrounding an iron frying pan and its ultimate destination...





	Good Riddance

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Gothams_Only_Wolf](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gothams_Only_Wolf/gifts).

> A little oneshot gift fic for the wonderful Gothams_Only_Wolf, inspired by and set within the very beginning of her Nibel Dragon 'verse. Hope you enjoy, my dear- Thank you for many, very enjoyable hours spent with your wonderful tales! Hope I got the details right, all mistakes herein are entirely my own. 
> 
> Special thanks also goes to RainofLittleFishes, who inspired everything!

On what would have otherwise been an ordinary morning during the breakfast rush in the ShinRa cafeteria, several things happened almost at once.

A table full of SOLDIER officers watched Hojo with growing suspicion as he all but sneaked through the crowded cafeteria.

Cloud Strife shrieked as Hojo lunged for him.

Colonel Urial’s breakfast tray clattered to the floor in the wake of his SOLDIER-speed and he snatched little Cloud from Hojo’s grasp and carried him out the door, two other officers hot on his heels.

Anika Strife grabbed her sizzling hot, cast iron frying pan barehanded from the stove. Half-cooked eggs splattered everywhere as she brought it down with a sickening crunch on the back of Hojo’s head.

Major Henderson thoughtfully upended a busser’s cart near Hojo and Major Cleary emptied a pitcher of ice water over the entirety.

Cleary speed-dialed Director Veld as Henderson began quietly reassuring Anika, attempting to coax her into giving him the frying pan as another SOLDIER brought her a chair and helped her to sit.

“Silence in the ranks!” Henderson all but bellowed a moment later into the fearful buzz of conversation spreading through the room. “Major Cleary and I will handle this,” he ordered. He flicked a hand signal for the remaining four SOLDIERs to guard the room’s two entrances, allowing no one to enter or leave until the Turks arrived.

Five minutes later, Veld and Tseng’s purposeful strides toward the crowded ShinRa cafeteria only paused long enough to for Veld to speak to the SOLDIER Firsts approaching from the opposite direction.

Perched high atop Colonel Urial’s shoulders and giggling all the while was tiny Cloud Strife. Flanking them were Majors Wolf and Tyris, both wary and tense.

“Good morning, Director,” Urial offered pleasantly with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “We’re taking the Storm Cloud here for a tour of the SOLDIER playground. We’ll be in the VR Room if you have time to join us later.”

“We’re gonna ride chocobos!” Cloud crowed gleefully, squirming and drumming his heels against Urial’s broad chest. Major Wolf reached up and ruffled the back of Cloud’s spiky blond hair in subtle prevention of the little boy flopping backward in his enthusiasm.

Veld smiled broadly at Cloud and said, “That certainly does sound like fun. We have a meeting to go to at the moment, but if it doesn’t take too long, we’d be glad to join you later. I haven’t ridden a chocobo in a long time. I may have to challenge you all to a race," he added for the others’ benefit. "For the present, we shall bid you a good day, gentlemen.” 

“Okay!” Cloud chirped happily. “See you later, Mister Turks!”

The two Turks continued on, acknowledging with a curt nod the two 2nd Class Soldiers standing guard just outside their destination. Once inside the cafeteria, the pair was met with almost complete silence, save for scattered, nervous murmurs throughout the clumps of people gathered there.

_I will never again say anything about it having been a little too quiet around here lately_, Veld told himself, fists planted on hips as the crowd parted for them and they gazed down on Hojo’s remains.

A glance upward from the gruesome scene brought Veld eye to eye with a tiny, stone-faced woman who met his assessment fearlessly, a dripping cast-iron frying pan still clenched tightly in one small, trembling hand. Something in her expression brought to Veld’s mind a Nibel dragon he’d seen once, fierce and proud...both beautiful and deadly. Someone had brought a chair for her and she sat, seemingly oblivious to the two SOLDIERs who stood at her back, the pair’s glowing eyes focused upon Veld and Tseng with grim ambivalence.

“Majors Henderson, Cleary,” Veld acknowledged politely. He raised one eyebrow and held out his hand. Without so much as a blink, Anika Strife handed over her frying pan, the handle barely cooled enough for an unenhanced person to touch. Veld in turn handed it to Tseng, who set it aside almost absently on a nearby table.

Veld started to reach in his own pocket for his Cure materia to tend Anika’s terribly burned hand, but Cleary was already casting with a mastered Restore, murmuring to Anika as he gently held her tiny wrist engulfed his own large grip.

Instead, Veld stepped back and again surveyed the mess of overturned cart, eggs, water, melting ice cubes, blood, broken dishes, silverware and brain matter for several moments before he spoke. “Tseng, have our Turk hazmat team come up here, fully suited and prepared for site-wide... _vermin_... decontamination, as there’s no telling where the good professor has been, lately.Tell them to bring an appropriate body bag.”

“Yes sir,” Tseng acknowledged, a flicker of amusement in his dark eyes as he stepped away to make the call.

Veld turned his attention back to the two SOLDIERs flanking Anika Strife before he spoke. “Report, Major Henderson.”

“Sir,” Henderson acknowledged, standing at attention in formal report mode. “My colleagues and I were all sitting at the same table- the one closest to the door, there. We noticed that Professor Hojo had been acting strangely since his arrival here this morning. He kept looking around toward the floor, and muttering to himself. A few people passed between us and Hojo to get in the breakfast line, so we lost sight of him for a couple of minutes. Then we saw him move really fast- bent over like he found whatever it was he’d been looking for. Just then, the Strife child cried out like he was frightened. The kid had been standing close to the door to greet people as they came in. We all stood up in time to see what was happening, just as the professor grabbed for the child and his lab coat caught on the corner of the busser’s cart and turned it over. There was a pitcher of ice water on it that spilled and Hojo slipped, fell backward and hit his head on the cart. That’s when Major Cleary called you. We made sure no one bothered anything until you got here.”

The two regarded one another for a long moment in silence before Veld spoke again. “Major Cleary, do you have anything to add to this statement?”

Cleary looked up from where he was still kneeling and speaking softly to Anika Strife. “No, sir. Major Henderson’s account is entirely accurate. We all saw the same thing.” Cleary’s gaze was implacable, almost a challenge.

The corner of Veld’s mouth lifted in an all-but-invisible smile and his eyes held a spark of humor as he watched the two SOLDIERs tension slowly fade. “Very well. Henderson, I will expect a written account of what you have told me on my desk before end of business today. Thank you both for your cooperation. If you will, please escort Mrs. Strife to meet her son so she can rest while we take care of cleanup here.”

Veld turned to face the room’s other occupants, but not before catching a glimpse of Anika Strife staring at him in bewilderment, her face no longer chalk white. Then Cleary and Henderson closed ranks between her and the rest of the room’s occupants. As the two Majors collected the other SOLDIERs present, Veld turned to the remainder of the crowd and pitched his voice to be heard above the wave of murmuring spreading through the room.

“Did anyone else here witness anything different from Major Henderson’s recall of events?” Barely a moment later, a dark-haired boy of obvious Wutaian descent answered loudly and cheerfully from the serving line,” _“No Sir!”_

His reply was echoed enthusiastically through the room as everyone in attendance concurred. 

Veld smiled to himself as he dismissed them all. The room began to clear and he went to collect a certain cast-iron souvenir. In an aside to Tseng, he murmured, “The incinerator’s too good for the bastard.” He was rewarded by Tseng’s barely muffled snort of amusement.

It was then that Veld heard a familiar, laughing voice, almost as if the speaker was standing at his shoulder.

_Bring him to me. I think I can teach even a Turk a few things about revenge._


End file.
